


Playing Mata Hari

by voleuse



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-24
Updated: 2004-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war doesn't always require sacrifices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Mata Hari

**Author's Note:**

> Post-Hogwarts.

_i. Harry_

It was Ginny's idea to play Mata Hari, after a few discussions with Tonks about disguise. Her proposal, however, was that she play herself.

To seduce Draco Malfoy, suspected Death Eater.

They decided to keep Ron out of the loop, of course, but on the condition that Harry follow, to keep an eye on things--no one was sure how dangerous Malfoy might actually be.

Using Polyjuice Potion was unreliable, at best, so Harry donned the invisibility cloak and followed Ginny to the expensive restaurant Malfoy was known to frequent. It was a wizard-run operation, but in a Muggle neighborhood, so she dressed the part.

Harry tried not to gape at the expanse of leg revealed through the slit of her long, black dress. He ignored other things revealed as well, and tried to remember the time, not so long ago, when he had thought of her only as Ron's little sister.

Their taxicab pulled in front of the restaurant (another Muggle embellishment that Hermione had had to coach Ginny on beforehand), and Ginny paid with a handful of notes. Judging from the driver's enthusiastic thanks, she had probably overpaid, but Harry, slipping unseen from the automobile and brushing Ginny to let her know he was out, felt a lift of conscience.

She strode into the restaurant with raised chin, ignoring the query from the maitre'd and swaying toward a table in the center of the room, where Malfoy was alone, sipping a glass of wine.

She slid into the chair next to him and quirked an eyebrow, to which Malfoy replied with a smile, and handed his glass to her, which she sniffed, then sipped daintiliy.

Harry was starting to think that Ginny was entirely too good at this.

The two started murmuring to each other, but forced to dodge a server bearing something sweet-smelling and on fire, Harry missed the exchange.

What he didn't miss, however, was Ginny's hand sliding under the table, and Malfoy's sudden _stillness_, where previously there had only been langour. Nor did he miss her final remark, a low, enunciated purr.

"Where can we go?"

Malfoy rose without hesitation and offered his elbow to Ginny with a smirk. Harry slipped between tables, servers, and restaurant patrons, chasing after the two as they walked to the front of the restaurant. He watched Malfoy slip an attendant a handful of gold, and then followed them to the cloakroom.

By the time he entered the room, Ginny was already on her knees, Malfoy's fingers curled in her hair, and Harry had to suppress a desperate craving to hit Malfoy several times in the face.

Ginny's moan, muffled (he refused to look), distracted him, and he wondered whether little Ginny Weasley had disappeared when Fleur had pulled her into a room to discuss "strategy" and they had emerged giggling.

Then Ginny pulled back, and stood up. Malfoy uttered a string of profanities, and she mirrored his earlier smirk.

"Where can we go?" she repeated, and Malfoy gulped.

"I live nearby," he replied, and she nodded.

"Good enough."

Malfoy grabbed his cloak and left, grumbling, and Ginny winked at Harry, standing in the corner, before following.

Harry panicked for a moment before realizing she could see his form, outlined as he pressed against the cloaks hung on the wall. He closed his eyes and willed his heart to slow a bit, then apparated to the street in front of Malfoy's current residence.

He had to take a moment to orient himself to his new surroundings. According to their intelligence, Malfoy had moved to the townhouse a few months ago, but no gossip surrounding the family had surfaced.

Ginny's idea had been to gain entrance to his home, to find out how tied to Voldemort Malfoy actually was. She had to be invited, herself, because no one had been able to suss out Malfoy's wards.

As he waited, a taxicab pulled up, and Ginny and a somewhat-mussed Malfoy emerged from the interior. When they reached the front door, Malfoy fumbled with his keys before finding the right one, and then they disappeared inside.

Harry positioned himself by the front window, as they had arranged. In a moment, Ginny appeared at the window, and using an obscure hand signal to identify the number of wards Malfoy had installed, and their nature. (Moody had insisted they learn, ranting that an enemy could immobilize tongues at any time, or lock you in a glass box, and hand signals were necessary in order to communicate.)

Harry shrugged the invisibility cloak off his shoulders and nodded, then crept to the front door and got to work.

_ii. Ginny_

Draco was saying something about his shameful lack of house elves, but Ginny paid little attention to what he was saying. Instead, she concentrated on the tingle of wards flicking over her skin as she crossed the threshold. When Draco paused in his diatribe to hang up their cloaks, she kicked her heels off (_how_ Muggles bore them, she couldn't say) and brushed a kiss against his throat.

Then, she made her way to the window and sought out the shifting shimmer that had to be Harry. Using the code Moody had developed, she indicated the kind of wards Draco had installed, then grinned when Harry's head emerged from the ether to nod.

"What are you looking at?" Draco asked, and she spun, pressed her head against the glass and arched lazily, smiling as his gaze fell to her cleavage.

"Nothing at all," she drawled. "I was just wondering why you lived here, instead of at your family's manor."

Something like anger, something like fear, flitted over Draco's face. "It's not important," he replied, and she knew the lie as well as he did.

She wanted to ask further, but she knew Harry would be easing past the wards, and Draco needed to be distracted. And, it turned out, she quite enjoyed distracting him.

"Right, then." She pressed one of her hands against the glass, ran the other slowly up the bodice of her gown, skimmed over her breasts and then eased down one of the straps of her dress. "Where were we?"

"Before you so rudely interrupted me?" Draco sounded half-amused, half-annoyed, but he was still staring at her bosom, and she arched her back further, reaching behind her back to undo the hidden zipper of her gown.

As he stood two feet away from her, she slid the gown off her body, then laughed lowly as he stepped forward, rubbed his still-clothed body (quite dashing in a Muggle suit) against the lace that still encased her body.

He kneeled in front of her suddenly, and she almost lost her balance when he yanked her knickers down and _slowly_ dragged his tongue over her.

"Merlin," she gasped, writhing against the window.

At that, he drew back and leered. "Malfoy, actually," and he stood.

She was tempted to kick him, mostly for the arrogance, but then he bowed his head and kissed her, thoroughly, and she wasn't of a mind to complain anymore.

Between kisses, stumbling back and running into walls, they left a trail of their clothes from the front room, down the hallway, and into Draco's bedroom.

They stopped in front of the mirror set above a large wooden chest, and he whirled her around, cupped her breasts with his hands, and nuzzled the back of her neck. It seemed a little silly, she thought, for Draco to do so, but then he hit _just_ the right spot, and her knees finally gave out.

He followed her descent to the floor, and she had a moment to be grateful that he was bourgeois enough to allow carpet, then his fingers were delving between her legs. Her hips bucked awkwardly, and she braced her hands on the carved edge of the chest as Draco slowly, slowly pushed inside of her.

This, she thought as he began thrusting steadily, was the best plan I ever came up with.

He grabbed her hips with one hand, and one of her breasts with another, and she could just barely see his reflection in the mirror, his eyebrows drawn together, his eyes half-shut, and he began growling delicious, obscene things as he fucked her.

About how much she liked this, how she must have wanted his cock so much. From anyone else, she would have been offended, but she had expected nothing less from a Malfoy. She didn't bother to reply, until she caught a particular name.

"--do this with Potter, don't you?" His pumping slowed, became almost lazy in speed, but each thrust was harder than before. "Do you suck him, too, Weasley?"

She noticed a familiar shimmer appear the mirror, crossing across the room. "Do you want me to, Draco?" The shimmer halted. "Would you like to see me do it?"

Draco's hips bucked twice against her, and then he managed to sneer. "Wouldn't that be a pretty sight?"

"It might be." Ginny knew better, but she couldn't help it. "Harry? Would you mind?"

When Harry materalized behind them, Ginny wished she had a camera. It would have been nice to preserve the expression on Draco's face.

_iii. Draco_

He hadn't expected to run into a _Weasley_ at the restaurant, but Draco thought he had conducted himself with poise. Even after she had put her hand in his lap and given him a squeeze.

The events after that were hazy with lust, and the red sheen of her hair, but as he fucked her from behind, he didn't much care whether he kept his composure or not.

He hadn't before paid much attention to what he said during sex--his partners always seemed to enjoy it, anyway--but he was surprised when Potter's name slipped from him, along with the image of this girl's lips wrapped around his cock.

It was a nice picture, but it was only that.

Until Harry Potter appeared in his bedroom.

He knew he should have been defending himself, or at least stopped fucking the girl, but he was balls-deep, and his body refused to do anything but her.

Draco decided to do what every Malfoy did best: dissemble.

He dragged his eyes away from Potter, and the bulge in Potter's trousers, and met Ginny's eyes in the mirror. "Brilliant idea, actually." He slowed his thrusting to a stop and watched her bite her lip. "Don't let me stop you."

She stared back at Potter for a long moment, and Draco reached between her legs and rubbed her clit. She rocked back against him, hard, but he didn't so much as twitch.

"Well?"

She nodded, her eyes still on Potter. "Harry, please."

Potter squared his shoulders, and his fingers twisted and flicked for a moment. Draco didn't bother to suppress a snort of derision, but then Potter pulled off his sweater and shirt, then pushed his trousers down, leaving his clothes in a lump on the floor as he stepped forward.

Draco resolutely drew his stare away from Potter's erection, and instead watched as the Weasley girl arched back, twisting on his cock, and Potter seated himself in front of them.

She dipped her head, then, and rested her hands on either side of Potter's hips. Draco groaned as her muscles tightened around him, and wished that he could see what she was doing, but the cascade of her hair blocked his view.

Defiantly, he grasped her hips and started thrusting against her, quickly, and sneered as Potter gasped and bucked his own hips.

"I guess she likes it, Potter," Draco crowed, trying desperately to hide his own reaction, but he was too close already, and soon he could only concentrate on himself. When he came to the brink, he automatically dipped his fingers against her clit again, rubbing in frantic circles until she writhed against him, her scream muffled by Potter's cock.

With a thrust, another, and a third, he was spent, and he sank onto his haunches and watched the two of them finish. He was slightly disappointed when Potter didn't make a sound as he came.

Potter and the Weasley girl exchanged a long look, and Draco, discomfited, fell back on old insults. "I didn't know Gryffindors had it in them." He stood, gathering his pride about him like a robe. "You can let yourselves out."

When they turned their gazes to him, however, Draco resigned himself.

They used only _Impedimenta_ on him, and he wasn't sure whether he was relieved or humiliated.

I should never have trusted a Gryffindor, he thought to himself, then Weasley blew a powder in his face, and everything went black.


End file.
